The Accidental Love Story
by jfauscette
Summary: Sam and Dean are no longer a duo, Wren MaKenna is a hunter and not exactly human who is recently back from Hell. She gains the boys' trust and they embark on an adventure of love, loss and kicking butt. Dean & OC
1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure?" Dean whispers raggedly, his green eyes searching my flushed face. I run my hands through my dark reddish curls as I slowly nod my head. "I think so," I whisper back, my blue eyes widening as he slowly unbuttons the front of my jeans. I can't believe I'm going through with this, after so long replacing my strong attraction for him with sarcasm and detestation. He was surprised as I was when I kissed him while we sat on the floor of a motel room, while Sam was out investigating. We were in the middle of research when I just couldn't take the sexual tension any longer, as each "accidental" touch of my thigh drove me over the edge.

Dean pressed his lips against mine as I grabbed at his shirt to get it off, it wasn't working. He pulled back, tore off the t-shirt and continued kissing along my neck. I fumbled with his jeans until I forced them down roughly. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "You know I still hate you right?" I mumbled back at him as I pulled off my top and threw it across the room. "Isn't it obvious?" He said dryly, as he eyed my breasts peeking out of a lace bra. He ran a calloused finger over a strap and muttered, "Always knew you were a lace kind of girl, even bet Sammy. Well told him we were betting, he never said no…" I placed a long finger over his slightly swollen lips, "Shut up and kiss me you idiot," I said as I lightly traced the outline of his lips with my finger.

Suddenly I realize I'm lying half naked with Dean Winchester as he kisses up and down every inch of my body. I try to recall why I disliked him so much before, but my head is cloudy and muddled. I reach for him and pull him towards my face. He seems confused at first but lets me have my way. I want to look at him, every part of him as I'm realizing for the first time how beautiful he is. I admire his moss green eyes, high cheekbones, full lips, golden freckles and strong jaw. I pull at him until Dean's underneath me as I lightly place a kiss on his lips. He jumps at the chance and presses back, more urgently and harder. I pull away, shaking my head at him, "Slow down cowboy, let me have my fun…" He raises his eyebrows, amused and confused. I smile with my cupid's bow shaped lips and continue. I kiss along his jaw line, then on his cheek, then his ear where I nibble and kiss. Deans smiles at this, his expression soft and excited. I move to his neck where I'm less gentle and more playful. I bite, kiss, lick and suck along his lightly tanned skin. He pulls me to him and moans, clearly enjoying it. His hands rove over my body, rough but soft at the same time. I move back up to his face and kiss the tip of his nose gently and order him to close his eyes. He does so, once more raising his eyebrow in question, but I ignore him. I place my lips lightly atop his eyelids, as they slightly flutter in response. I smile; it's those sort of strange and soft kisses that are my specialty.

We're kissing again, harder and faster than before. I can feel his need growing more and more urgent. Dean unclasps my bra with one swift movement and throws it on the floor. I'm underneath him as he gazes down at my fair skinned chest. He places kisses along my breasts and nipples, sucking and nibbling his way towards my flat stomach. He chuckles a little when he gets to my belly button. I blush as he whispers, "Your freckles make your belly button look like a face, see here's the eye, the other eye and the mouth." He looks up at me and I stick my tongue out at him in response. I've been hearing that joke since I was a kid, and it had gotten old. But I didn't say it, I just smiled and shook my head at him. He smiled back completely unaware and continued his way down. He pulled off my panties, chuckling again at the lace, mumbling to himself that he knew it. Even though he couldn't see my face at that exact moment I rolled my eyes at how he was such a _boy_. But then I was distracted once again by Dean's soft lips and rough hands. I moaned loudly and ran my fingers through his short hair and pulled lightly.

He moved back up to my very flushed face, smiling at his accomplishment. I looked up into his beautiful eyes and thanked him quietly. Dean responded with a long deep kiss as I pulled at his boxers. They slipped off and were kicked to the end of the queen-sized bed. I stroked his length that pressed against my thigh. All the while looking into his eyes and enjoying how he had been enjoying every second of it. I brought my hand up to my mouth and licked it suggestively, watching his enthralled expression. I smiled deviously as I pulled his hand up towards my face and sucked on a long finger. He groaned with excitement as well as pushing harder against my thigh. I knew he was readier than he'd ever be. I wrapped my thin legs around his waist and looked into his eyes, "Let's go," I whisper. I gasp quietly as it slips in, and run my short finger nails over Dean's back. He groans and picks up pace.

I lay next to Dean, the both of us breathing heavily and sweating. I swear loudly and stretch my arms. He grins proudly and places his arms behind his head in a total I'm-so-proud-of-myself position. I roll my eyes at him, but lay back as well. "That was good, really good," Dean says as he turns on his side towards me. Unconsciously he runs a hand through my curls as I reply, "Damn good. _You_ are welcome." I laugh as his expression screams what his comeback will be before he even opens his mouth. "No _you're_ welcome," he says jokingly. "Who knew you'd be such a screamer," he says as he wiggles his eyebrows. I stick my tongue out at him and quickly reply, "Well what was with those facial expressions? You looked like you were thinking as hard as you could, like smoke was about to come out of your ears." We laugh again just as Dean's cell phone rings on the bedside table. He grabs it and flips it open, "Hello? Yeah, okay. You're on your way back _Sam_," he says pointedly and jumps up out of the bed," You'll be here in five minutes?" I hear that and jump out of bed as well. "Shit," I whisper, looking for my underwear. Dean hangs up the phone as he pulls on his boxer shorts. "I can't find my underwear!" I say frantically. Dean locates his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. "Um, just I'll look for them. And you hop in the shower in here and I'll tell him the shower in your room doesn't get hot water," he says quickly as he looks out the window. "Um…" I start but he interrupts, "He's pulling in, go! Go!" Dean yells as he pushes me into the bathroom and shuts the door behind me. I turn the water on as I hear Sam walk in the room. Dean tells the cover up story and Sam seems to believe it. I jump in the shower and stand under the heavy stream of warm water. Oh god, what the _hell _have I done?


	2. Chapter 2

I wrap a towel around my body and shake out my wet hair. Gazing into the mirror and gripping the sides of the sink I tell myself to remain calm and cool. Sam and Dean are at the table eating burgers and fries; I wrinkle my nose at the smell of the beef. Dean notices my expression and laughs, "Don't worry Sam got you a grilled cheese Ms. Vegetarian." I smile at Sam who's stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth, "Thank you Sam, but there better be a chocolate shake with extra whip cream over there with my name on it." Sam laughs and shakes his head, "Of course. I still can't believe all the junk you eat and you don't weigh 500 pounds though. You're like Dean!" I smile back and excuse myself to my adjoining room to get changed. I find my clothes worn earlier in the day before the incident with Dean carefully laid out on my bed, including my underwear. I smile to myself and wonder where in the heck Dean had found them. I grab the least sexy thing in my bag, a huge old sweatshirt with the name of a band I saw a few years ago. I slip on a pair of leggings and leave my face free of makeup. Trying to look as unattractive as possible is result of needing what happened earlier with Dean to never ever happen again. I pad back into the boys' room barefoot and sit cross-legged at the table, grabbing a seat next to Sam. Taking a big bite out of my sandwich and a gulp of my shake I moan in how delicious everything tastes to my almost empty stomach. I thank Sam again. He laughs at me, "Gosh if I knew buying you food made you this happy, I'd take over the job fully." His hazel-y green eyes twinkle as he smiles at me. Sam's flirting was always innocent and never really meant anything, but Dean clears his throat as he glances between the two of us uncomfortably. He changes the subject, "So I didn't know you liked Evanescence," Dean says as he pokes at my hoodie. "Oh, um yeah they're awesome! I went through a sort of punk Amy Lee-esque phase in high school. Fake tongue ring and everything," I answer attempting to keep things light after Dean's weirdness. They both laugh, "I cannot see you as a Goth! But the tongue ring…" Dean jokes as he wiggles his eyebrows. I punch him in the arm lightly, "Oh shut up!"

After reviewing the information Sam collected from the coroner's office on the most recent strange death that we were investigating as we stopped in a small town while were on our way to California. The death was in result of a haunting we had decided. Hauntings were one of my least favorite things in the job description of hunting. Mainly because ghosts weren't "bad" most of the time, just confused and stuck in our world. Sort of like the spirits in The Sixth Sense, mostly they had unfinished business here for some reason or another. But then again others were just so angry and volatile about something they stayed.

I hop in the Impala before Sam does, in the middle of the boys. Throwing my empty shotgun to the back seat as Sam slides in after me and Dean starts the car and turns on the radio. I take off my leather jacket that sticks to me with a light layer of sweat as I sit back in the seat and sigh, "Nice job boys, but you know what my kicking butt means right?" They had started a tradition in which after a successful hunt, whoever was the "MVP" of that hunt got to choose the music until the next time they stopped for the night. Sam groaned and Dean laughed a little. I had similar music taste to Dean's, less heavy metal, mostly classic rock with a few sprinkles of alternative, folk and indie rock. Sam was tired of all my music because he was a country music listener, I gagged at the thought. Dean seemed happy that Sam hadn't won yet, but he also seemed uncomfortable about not being the music overlord like he had been before I came along. Sam had helped me when I came up with the MVP award idea, because we were both tired of Metallica and he had hoped that I had a different music taste. But Sam thought wrong, I smiled to myself and popped in a Doors tape of mine and, "Riders On The Storm" drifted out from the radio. "Well that's sort of perfect," I say quietly as I run my fingers through my tangled mass of hair and look out at the rain splattered window. Dean taps his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat. Sam sighs as he leans his head against the window and falls almost immediately to sleep.

Sam is fast asleep as we enter the state of Washington and "Touch Me" by The Doors comes on the radio. I'm not paying attention though as I text my sister once more, hoping that by some chance she'll answer. Dean laughs as he says to me quietly, "Now this song is sort of perfect." I've only been half listening, so I turn off my phone and drop it in my lap. "What?" I ask him, knitting my eyebrows together and looking at his profile as he drives down a long stretch of road. He glances over at me, then down at his leg nearest me and starts to open his mouth to speak. I follow his gaze down to his leg, where my own hand is somehow placed firmly on the top of his thigh. I pull my hand off, "I have no idea how that got there," I protest. But all Dean does is raise his eyebrows. "Oh don't give me that look. Just because we-," I cut myself off, "I must have put my hand there unconsciously when I was texting Clover again you pig." He nods, looking more disappointed than he should.


	3. Chapter 3

With still no answer from Clover, I grow more worried with each passing mile as we make our way to Seattle. Time for a Beatles mix tape, I decide. I sigh as Paul McCartney's voice floats out from the speakers; "Hey Jude" is playing. I sing along, not caring if I might be too loud and wake Sam up. All I care about is this song because it always makes me feel better. I can see Dean smiling out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore it. "Did you know that Paul McCartney wrote this for John Lennon's son Julian AKA Jude when his parents were divorcing? How cool is that," I ramble as I try to forget for the moment my worry for Rowan. "Very," is all Dean says. This monosyllable act he has going is driving me crazy, which probably is the point.

Dean parks the Impala in front of a Motel 8 in the outskirts of Seattle. Sam is finally awake and non-stop talking about the current job we have here while Dean gets us rooms. The job has something to do with werewolves and that's all I really need to know. I'm cleaning my gun in the back seat when Dean jogs over to the car in the pouring rain. He sits in the front seat and turns to Sam and I, "So bad news," he starts, leftover raindrops fall down his full lips as he speaks, "there's only one more room left." I groan before I ask, "How many beds?" Sam closes his book, noticing for the first time the tension slowly filling the car like molasses. "Two," Dean says fake nonchalantly. I launch myself out of the car, rain falling down my face. Sam and Dean meet me at the trunk as we each take a big duffel bag. They both used to offer to carry mine for me before they realized I full well could take care of myself. Something I've always been able to do.

I shake out the rain from my hair after throwing my duffel on the couch, where I intend to sleep. Sam notices, grabs my bag and throws it on one of the double beds. "I'm sleeping on the couch, _you're_ sleeping in the bed," he says crossing his arms. "But-" I start as Dean interrupts me, "Oh shut up you're still an independent strong woman, don't worry. Plus Sam get your big head over to the other bed, I want the couch," Dean says aggressively. Sam and I both start to protest but he interrupts again, "Shut your pie holes goody-goodies." We're quiet as Dean turns to the couch and starts unpacking, I raise my eyebrows at Sam and he does the same shaking his head.

I step out of the motel shower and wrap a towel around myself as I look around the small bathroom for clothes to put on. I forgot to bring them in. "Shit," I whisper as I step out into the room. Sam has his nose crammed into a book at the small wooden table and Dean is splayed out on Sam's bed, shaking and moaning from the "Magic Fingers" that makes the bed vibrate. I scoff as I walk over to the other bed. Dean's eyes snap open as he watches me walk in front of his bed before grabbing clothes out of my duffel. "Sam you're next right?" I ask, wrapping the towel tighter around my body because I feel Dean's eyes on me. Sam nods, "You should probably hurry there's only a little hot water left, sorry," I smile jokingly as he gets up from the table, grabs his bag and closes the bathroom door behind him. All before I can tell him I need to use the bathroom to change. The water starts running and I can hear Sam humming a Kenny Chesney song. Dean's magic fingers stop and he sits up on the bed, "Don't you need to change?" he asks suggestively. I roll my eyes at him, "Turn around and if I see you looking I'll shoot a salt round into your manhood," I say, trying to look and sound as tough as I could but it's a little hard in nothing but a towel. He turns away, and I drop my towel carefully watching him. I'm slipping my underwear on when he peeks over his shoulder. "Dean! I swear I will!" I yell as I grab the towel, covering my bare chest. "Nothing I ain't seen before," he says mockingly, "Especially yours, I've seen them already." I wrap the towel around myself again before I answer him angrily, "Well you aren't going to see any of it ever again, Dean. We can't do that ever again. So try and remember how I look naked because you are _never_ seeing it again," I say, realizing how cruel that last sentence was. Dean fully turns around and walks closer to me, "You kissed me first!" he says defensively. "And it was a huge mistake. One that I will never make again," I say heatedly, not even thinking before speaking. Dean's face is full of hurt for a split second before he covers it with faux macho carelessness. "Good," he grumbles as he pulls on his coat and walks out into the rain.

Sam and I are eating on his bed, watching TV and joking around as Dean showers. Twenty minutes after Dean's dramatic exit he came back with a bag full of diner food and nothing to say to me. Sam hadn't noticed how angry Dean was yet or he chose to ignore it; he seemed to be in a great mood. That was something I loved about Sam, when he was happy so were you. Dean came out of the bathroom dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with his short hair in random wet spikes on his head. He didn't say anything as he grabbed his bacon cheeseburger and sat on the couch. I watched him eat his burger as he tried really hard not to look in my direction. I knew he knew I was looking at him and I willed him to look up. I wanted to say something to him, to apologize for how harsh I had been. _Come on Dean lift your head, look at me _I willed. He looked up at me, a confused expression on his face then realization. Both the boys were still not used to my powers. I sent a thought into his head as I looked into his green eyes; _I'm sorry Dean, I was a bitch. _He nodded but his expression was the same mask of faux carelessness he had used earlier. He was always trying to hide his true feelings from people, which made me sad for him. Dean was actually a really caring sweet guy; he just never showed people that side of him. Which I understood for the most part, because if you kept a wall up there was no way you could get hurt.

I lay in the stiff motel bed, listening to the sounds of Sam's quiet snores and Dean's even breathing. Dean and I were always the last to fall asleep. I lay there for hours each night because every time I closed my eyes images of hell danced and jumped before me, I guessed it was the same for Dean. Sleep finally came in slow waves of unconsciousness.


End file.
